I had a happy childhood surrounded by the most amazing parents/family. I was a straight-A
student in school, an athlete who played multiple sports, and had a supportive (not huge) friend group. I became enthralled with this idea of “perfectionism” and when things went wrong, I thought of myself as a failure and deprived myself of self love and food. I was a people pleaser.
I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa and obsessive compulsive disorder at the age of 12. I
was playing competitive soccer and running cross country at the time and let’s just say it’s a
miracle I made it through the season at the pace I was going at. I went through several relapses while in high school and in college triggered by stressors and other traumatic experiences in my life, in which I felt I had very little control. Although I thought at the time that my eating disorder gave me a sense of control, it really took away so much of my control and made me a completely different person, someone who pushed away their loved ones and was just not happy. I was slowly killing myself and I was in denial to seek help at times, although deep down, I knew I needed it.
I was always so quick to help other people but could not help myself for some reason.